


Toxic Love

by mrgoldsdearie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Blood, Choking, Death, I know there's some fucked up shit happening here I fucking know, I'm not gonna keep telling ya this, M/M, Non-Consensual blowjob, Rough Sex, Sex in blood, Smut, The warnings aren't here to look pretty people, graphic depiction of violence, unhealthy relationship, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10029092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Instead of Edward leaving Oswald to fend for himself tied to the hood of Isabella's crushed car, Edward gives him a way out of the deadly situation. But can Oswald get ‘up’ to complete the task?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my sick fantasy for episode 3x14. Happy reading!

After careful planning and acting out his plot to the fullest extent, Edward Nygma’s thirst for revenge has finally reached its pinnacle. Now face to face with the murderer of the woman whom he thought was his everything.

“Yes!... Yes!” Oswald Cobblepot desperately bellows, as the man, he deeply loves skillfully ties him down to the hood of a train crushed car with heavy ropes. Edward used to work for the Gotham City Police Department’s forensics lab and knows a million different ways to properly tie down another, but Oswald thrashes, urging to escape, fighting for his life and freedom. “But my father appeared to me,” Oswald groans, flailing in the constricting ropes. “I saw him…. I saw him appear,” his voice cracks with fear. How could he have seen the manifestation of Elijah Van Dahl if it wasn't his spirit sending him messages from beyond this physical world?

“No—” Edward shakes his head, tightening the last knot securely— “you saw a man that I met in Indian Hill that does killer impersonations,” he snarks with a wild cachinnation. He then opens the car door, removes an extended reach lighter and a knife from the glove compartment. “You see, Oswald—” he climbs out the car and hovers over his bound friend, opening the knife— “how do I put this?” Shifts his head slightly to the right, eyes searing with vengeance, slowly inching into Oswald with the sharp blade under his neck. “Ghosts aren't real!”, he roars, spit showering from his lips.

“But my father's remains— “the Penguin’s murky eyes widen with realization— “you -- you stole them from his grave?”

“Yup,” Edward proudly confesses. “Oh, but don't worry.” He lays the blade on Oswald's chest and pats the tied man on the shoulder. “He's at peace now. I gently placed his remains—” motions his hands as if he's moving a small box from one place to another— “inside a dumpster behind a Chinese restaurant.” Smiles deviously, suppressing most of his gleeful laughter.

“You were angry... I get it... I understand,” Oswald fusses, frightful tears burning in his eyes. He doesn't feel rage for Edward desecrating his father’s grave and body, though he thinks he should, but he doesn't. The love he feels for Edward Nygma is far more merciful than anything he's ever sensed in his life. “I even forgive you.” He means those words with all of his heart. “But -- but killing me is not the way.”

Edward grabs Oswald underneath his chin, forcing him to glare into his searing mocha eyes. “So you admit you killed Isabella?”

The Penguin winced and stares back, breathing laboriously through his flared nostrils. “Fine.” He breaks his head away from the Riddler's grip. “Is that what you want?”

Edward takes hold of Oswald's face again. He's the one in control. Him! This situation is of his design and he will dictate every move. The little flightless bird will have fear struck into his heart. And in this abandoned warehouse, Edward Nygma is the God of life and death. “Yes!”, he snarls in Oswald's face.

“I confess.” Oswald eventually divulges, taking a moment of gazing onto the pain filled in Edward's eyes and at his own reflection in his glasses. He’ll tell his best friend what he needs to hear, but not without spitting some truth that might be difficult for Edward to swallow. “I had her killed,” he barks, freckles on his skin more visible over the crimson shade of his burning cheeks. “But guess what? You should thank me because we both know what would have happened if I hadn't.”

“Yes!” He lets go of Oswald's face. “I could have lived a life with the woman I loved.” Snatches up the knife he laid on Oswald's chest and holds it tightly down at his side. If he needs to use it in an instant, he now has it close. “I could have been happy!”

“No, Ed, you would have killed her.”

Nygma gasps. Though he's struggled with the idea himself, hearing Oswald saying it and presuming it to be the truth was harder to hear than Edward could have envisioned. Before the turn of events that lead them to their current deadly scenario, Edward would have thought his friend would believe only the best in him.

“Just like you did the other one!”, Oswald continues to say, snapping at the man holding him hostage. “You couldn't have helped it! And afterward, you would have hated yourself!”

“Well we'll never know, will we?”, Edward says with a twitch in his upper lip, turning away from the crushed car.

Tears start to stream from Oswald's eyes and his bottom lip wobbles as he speaks, “I did -- I did it for love,” he weeps, hoping that the man he loves will hear the truth in his words.

“What?”, Edward questions, quickly circling back to the car.

“I did it because I love you,” he sobs again. “You should know that.”

“Shut up!” The Riddler smacks him across the face and stops himself from striking Oswald again with the back of his hand. “Love is about sacrifice—” snatches Oswald by his tear-drenched cheeks— “It's about putting someone else's needs and happiness before your own.”

“Ed, please,” Oswald begs.

Edward covers his mouth, muffling the other man’s whining. He wants his word to seep deeply into the bird's mind, make him see and understand that all of this is his fault. “Cause the truth is, Penguin, you would sacrifice anyone to save your own neck…. Even me.”

Oswald had seen that piercing glare in Edward's eyes many times, but it's never been directed at himself. He could never fathom that he'd ever be on this side of the ropes.

“Now—” Edward removes his hand from Oswald's mouth and points up at the ceiling, setting their fatal game in motion— “if you'll look above us, you will see a cauldron of highly corrosive acid, which is currently being held in place by this chain.”

Oswald pants, all words lost from his tongue, frightened to death of the sight of a broken chain frozen together in a giant block of ice.

“When the ice melts—” Edward steps away from the car and presents the obstacle with the flare of a gameshow host— “the chain comes loose.” He peeks at Oswald from over his shoulder. “The vat of acid tips…. And!.... You get the idea.”

Oswald whimpers, pleading for one more chance at life. “Ed. Please. No, please. I can change…. Say you're right….. Say you're right….. The fact that I love you proves that I can change. Please, oh please, just give me a chance.”

“You know as well as I that a man facing death will say anything to save his skin,” Edward says, stepping up to the torch just underneath the block of ice holding the broken chain. He bends down before it and removes the extended reach lighter from inside the breast pocket of his suit. “But I will give you a chance.” Lights the torch, rests the lighter on the floor, and warms his hands over the flames. Gratified with himself and the expressions of fear plastered on Oswald's face. The man knows he could die and Edward takes pleasure in the thought.

“You said you would give me a chance,” Oswald yelps. “Why did you light it?”

“Because this is your chance.” Edward stands and makes his way back to Oswald at the train crushed car. He glares into Oswald's bloodshot sea-green eyes, swallowing the fear pouring from his pores. “I will cut the rope—” holds the knife under Oswald's chin, dipping his free hand between the tied man's thighs— “and let you free when you cum,” Edward growls, amusement edging his voice.

“What!?” Oswald closes his legs, trapping Edward's hand between them.

“You heard what I said, Oswald.”  Closes his hand tightly around the Penguin's flaccid cock. “If you don't cum, we both die.”

Oswald watches with bated breath as Edward unbuckles his belt and yanks the pants down around his ankles. He's wanted Edward to do this kind of thing to him in the past, but not like this. Not while both of their lives were on the line. “Edward, no, please stop.”

“I know you're scared, Oswald. My hands are shaky too.” He shows his jittery right hand to Oswald. “But if you don't submit to me, we will die.” Wraps his long slender fingers around Oswald and strokes his soft cock. “You better get hard, Mr. Penguin. Your life depends on it.”

“I’m trying!”

“Try faster!”

Oswald closes his eyes and focuses only on the sensation around his cock, but he can't help but keep peeking at the melting ice getting smaller and smaller with each passing second. How does Edward think of these things? He must be a sicker puppy than Oswald had thought. Fuck, he'd really be into this if not for the impending threat of having his flesh melted off with acid. Fuck! Fuck! Get fucking hard!

“It looks like you need a little more motivation, Oswald,” Edward mutters behind clenched teeth and tilts into Oswald's lap. “Let me help you with that.” He parts his lips and slips Oswald's cock between them, sucking hard on his loose foreskin.

“Oh…. Ah….”, Oswald moans, throwing in his ropes, sweat dripping down his face. His fevered breathing increases with the rate of his hammering heart hitting endlessly against his chest. He watches as Edward's head bobbles up and down, slickening his cock with warm saliva. Oh, how beautiful this sight would be if not for the dire scenario, if not for the acid slowly starting to plop on the car just between his legs. Shit! Why can't he get hard!?

Edward licks the length of Oswald's shaft, juggling his smooth shaven balls. “Mmm—” he vibrates his lips on the side of the semi-stiff rod— “you taste of fear and death.” He hoods his dark eyes up at Oswald, dragging his tongue around the blushing tip peeking out from tightening foreskin. “I don't know which tastes best,” he adds just before replacing his sultry lips around the Penguin's twitching cock, filling his mouth until the head hits the back of his throat.

Oswald closes his eyes tightly, this time he won't open them, and thinks about a more pleasant ambiance.

> _He imagines himself sitting on the couch at the Van Dahl estate in front of the roaring fireplace— he can almost feel the warmth from the calming heat— with Edward down on his knees before him, using his gentle and talented tongue on his fully erect cock. He can see himself placing his hand on the back of Edward's head, slipping his fingers through his silken brunette threads, smiling down on his lover._
> 
> _“Oh, Edward,” he'd moan in pure bliss. “You know just how I like it.”_
> 
> _Edward would lift his head and gaze back at Oswald with glistening eyes, cum trickling down the corner of his lips. “Of course I do, Ossie. I love you.”_
> 
> _Oswald would wipe the cum off the edge of Edward's mouth and lick his thumb just before kissing his beloved’s pink pouty lips. “I love you too….”, he’d whisper._

The Penguin abruptly opens his eyes having been forced out of his paradise from the undeniable pulsation palpitating at the base of his shaft, signaling climactic release. He doesn't hold back. Normally, he'd linger on the edge of cumming just to prolong the sensation of Edward's warm lips around him, but time is against him and he can't wait any longer. “Ah!... Ah!...” Oswald's head falls back as his cock ruptures, spewing a thick steady stream of his climax into Edward's mouth.

Edward's cheeks balloon as his mouth is quickly filled. He slips Oswald's cock from his lips, cum oozing out the of sides, and vigorously cuts through Oswald's ropes with the sharp blade of his knife.

Before Oswald knew it, he was being lifted into Edward's strong arms and carried always to a safe distance just as the ice holding the chain splits and dowses the car with the corrosive acid. Oswald's heart stops as he watches the paint on the car bubble and melts off. That could have been them under that blanket of acid. They both could have died. He slowly pulls his eyes away from the horrendous sight and looks at Edward, who's swallowing Oswald's release and licking his cum stained lips.

“That was fun,” he heavily breathes with a twisted smirk, dropping Oswald to his feet.

“You bastard!”, the Penguin bellows, striking the Riddler with a tightly closed fist across the face, knocking off his glasses.

Edward's head whips back and his piercing dark brown eyes beam into Oswald’s. If looks could kill, the Penguin would be stone cold dead. “Come here you little bitch!” He reaches for Oswald's lapel, but the bird smacks his hand away and Edward immediately counters with a hard swing of his knife.

Oswald jumps back, tripping over the pants around his ankles and crashes to the floor. Edward drops on top of him and Oswald blocks his blade-wielding hand from plummeting into his rib cage. They struggle in a deadly game of tug-of-war before Oswald takes Edward’s knife by the blade with his bare hand and tosses it towards the car, then repeatedly throws solid fists— with his blood gushing hand— at Edward's face, connecting each time he pulls back.

Dark crimson leaks from Edward's nose as he stops Oswald's next swing in mid-air and spits the blood pooling in his mouth onto the Penguin's face. He slaps him on the cheek right at the moment Oswald digs his knee into his thigh.

Oswald was aiming for another area, but Edward had shifted just as he made the connection.

“Fuck!”, Edward scolds and Oswald shoves him off.

While Edward is stunned, The Penguin removes the purple pocket square from his breast pocket. He wraps his cut hand— it's only a surface wound but still bleeds profusely— and immediately turns on his hands and knees trying to crawl away. But Edward grabs him by the ankle and pulls him back. He kicks Edward in the face, though that doesn't falter him. Edward is determined to have his way with the flightless bird.

“I'm not fucking finished with you!” He manages to retake his position back on top of Oswald and envelopes his lanky hands around the shorter man's fragile neck. He squeezes his hands, drawing out the life of the man he called his best friend.

Oswald's eyes widen and rust over as each passing breath becomes harder and harder to take. The expression on Edward's face is pure satisfaction and Oswald begins to realize that this is exactly what he deserves. He should die for breaking his best friend's heart. He grabs on to Edward's shoulder, needing to touch him on last time before falling into the arms of death. “I'm sorry, Ed,” he chokes out, gasping for air with each word he’s able to spit out. “I love you and—” he coughs— “and I forgive you for this.” His body thrashes for one last breath as his eyes roll to the back of his skull and his face fades blue.

Death is finally here.

##  *****

##  *****

##  *****

##  *****

##  *****

A gasp of life.

Oswald’s eyes fly open, breathing in deeply from his wide mouth.

He was there. The peaceful nothingness of death. He actually saw it.

Coming back to the world of the living, the first sight to Oswald's eyes is Edward. Being reborn and welcomed back to this world by a blood-stained angel. He felt like the luckiest man.

“Are you alright?”, Edward asks, voice more serene than before Oswald met his end.

“Yes,” the Penguin answers, blinking his eyes, still feeling disorientated after being choked to death. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me.” Edward suddenly slaps him.

“Ugh!,” Oswald gasps, instantly circling back to look Edward square in the eye. Did Edward bring him back to life just to hurt him again?

“I can kill you—” Edward cries, tears streaming down his cheeks— “but I can't keep you dead!” He coils his hands around the expanse of Oswald's throat again.

Oswald punches Edward hard and he releases his grip. The little birdie won't be dying for the second time.

The Riddler returned with another brutal smack across the face with the back of his hand before leaning into Oswald to greedily and sloppily press their bleeding chapped lips together in a kiss.

Oswald's breath is taken away from him yet again, but this time from something more pleasant.

The taste of blood between them grows bolder as Edward forces his tongue inside Oswald's mouth, pushing it back as far as he can reach, deepening the flavor. He abruptly breaks off the kiss just as quickly as he started and crashes another open hand upon Oswald again. “I hate you!” He kisses the man underneath him, tightening the hold he has on his lapel. “I loved her,” he mumbles on Oswald's lips, never disconnecting their intimate embrace. “I love you—” rasps his hips against the Penguin's exposed cock— “and I could’ve had you both…. I should’ve had you both.”

Oswald wraps his hands around Edward's back drawing them closer together. With Edward's confession, he now understands it all. Oswald was too selfish and greedy to wait for a time when Edward could come to terms with his feeling for both he and Isabella. The idea never crossed the Penguin’s mind that Edward could love two people intimately.

Could a relationship of three worked out well for them? Could they have all made a successful life together? These are questions Oswald and Edward will never have the answers too.

“I'm sorry, Edward—” he breathes between their ferocious kiss— “I wish I could change what I did.”

“No!” Edward cries, lifting Oswald up by the grip he has on his suit and slams him back down into the concrete. “Don't apologize to me.” He takes hold of his face, squishing his cheeks as he speaks, “You paid for what you did. You died for it.”

“But I didn't stay dead.”

“I couldn't keep you dead. I couldn't live without the only person I had left that I loved, who loves me.”

Oswald's heart skips a beat. He's heard Edward say that he loved him twice. How is he supposed to comprehend this? What is he supposed to do now? “Oh, Edward, I do—” his bottom lip quivers with every word— “I do love you.”

“Shut up!”, Edward orders fiercely. “I don't need your compassion right now.”

“What do you need?”, Oswald asks, desperate to please Edward in any way he can. “I'll give you anything.”

“I need your body—” he rips open Oswald's shirt, exposing his hairless chest— “but I won't take it without your permission. Not again.”

“You can have me, Ed,” he answers without hesitation and cups his wrapped hand on the nape of Edward’s neck. Blood seeps through the pocket square and streams down the taller man’s back as Oswald slowly pulls him in. “You can do anything you want,” he says softly, drying the tears from Edward's face, leaving streaks of red behind. “I give you permission.”

The Riddler leans in so close that their lips barely touch. He can feel Oswald's heated breath against the surface of his flesh. “Thank you,” he whispers and gives the Penguin a soft peck. “And forgive me…. I will not be gentle.” He consumes his lover's lips, then makes his way down Oswald's bruised neck, kissing the marks he left upon him.

“Ah…. Oh….”, Oswald moans, feeling a billow of electricity coursing through his body whenever Edward's lips touch him. He's never felt so alive in his life. He's never felt such an erotic high. “Oh, Ed.” Buries his cut and bloody hands in Edward's hair. It's just as soft as he always imagined it to be.

Edward peppers Oswald's chest with kisses and takes his pebbled nipple between his lips. He licks and sucks before biting down on the sensitive area.

“Fuck!” Oswald roars, arching his back to the pain, involuntary tugging Edward's hair.

The taller man soothes Oswald with his tongue before giving the other nub the same attention, receiving more songs of agonizing pleasure from the man under him.

“Oh, shit.” Oswald's toes curl in his black and white studded leather shoes.

Edward sits up and grinds himself against Oswald. “I was hoping we wouldn't die.” He digs his nails into the bird’s chest and scrapes them down his torso, leaving long red scratches. “I still needed to know what it felt like to have you inside me.” He takes off his green suit jacket and his shirt, revealing his body to Oswald for the first time. He seizes Oswald's wrists and lays his hands flat on his bare chest, allowing Oswald to feel his muscles. Edward slides the Penguin's blood stained hands down the length of his body and stops them at his gyrating hips. “I prepared myself for this,” he breaths, feeling Oswald's cock growing thick between his thighs. “I wanted you to fuck me.”

“I've always wanted to fuck you, Ed.”

“Good,” Edward snarls and strikes Oswald’s face with another open hand.

The bird smirks and grapples onto Edward's shoulders, quickly changing their positions on the floor. “I'm starting to like that.” He wraps Edward's legs around himself and fondles his stiffening cock against Edward's pants, increasing the friction between their bodies. “Uh…. Uh….”, he pants.

“If you're going to fuck me—”, Edward grips his hand in Oswald’s hair and pulls his head back, stopping the shorter man’s thrusting motion— “then do it right,” he gnarls gravely through his teeth.

Oswald quickly sits up on his knees and removes the rest of his torn clothing, as Edward pulls out a small bottle of lubrication from the pocket of his pants.

He tosses the bottle at Oswald and it hits the Penguin’s chest, landing on the floor between Edward’s legs. “Use it now,” he demands.

Oswald’s eyes darken as his hands swiftly fumble to tear off Edward’s pants. It doesn't take long before he has the garment around Edward’s left ankle. He gazes down at the Riddler’s full erection for the first time. The blushing tip oozing with pre-cum seems to be calling his name. He’d love to take his time and explore every inch of Edward's luxurious body, but this encounter isn't about taking it slow and learning what brings the other the most sexual desire. No. This encounter is far more savage.

The Penguin scoops up the bottle and squirts some on the fingers of his cut palm. He uses his free hand to hold Edward’s right leg down, keeping him open, and without warning, he slides two fingers inside Edward’s tight hole. He knew that it would hurt. He wanted it to hurt. Edward and Oswald have caused each other ineffable pain all night and Oswald didn't want to give up another chance to inflict more upon his new lover. With the way they're both feeling, he knew Edward would admire the thought.

“Oh, fuck!”, Edward howled, slamming a closed fist against the cold hard concrete floor. “I told you to do it right.” He scoots himself down, drawing Oswald's hand deeper inside himself, past the knuckles.

Oswald moves his finger in an upward motion, locating the little round bulb within Edward— didn't think he’d find it so quickly— and moves the digits in a come-hither motion, causing Edward to sit up on this elbows, moaning with pleasure. “Hows that for doing it right?” He penetrates the slender man's bundle of nerves over and over and over again. Each time pumping harder than the last, scissoring his fingers causes the cut on his hand to bleed through the fabric of the makeshift bandage, painting red on Edward’s cheeks. But Oswald doesn’t care about the throbbing pain in his hand, the satisfying expression on Edward’s face is the only heaven he knows.

Edward rolls his hips, matching Oswald’s rhythm. “You’re -- you’re a lot b-better than I thought,” he stammers and his head falls back as he gnashes his teeth, losing himself in the sexual haze, but Oswald's hand isn't enough to satisfy his appetite. “Fuck me now!”

Oswald drives inside several more times before removing his hand, eager to comply with Edward’s new command. He saturates his blood soaked palm with more lubrication and strokes himself, slathering his cock with the mix. The pushes Edward down on his back and positions himself between his spread legs, wiping away the coils of brunette that are adhered to the taller man’s sweat-misted brow, but Edward smacks his hand away. Oswald’s gentle touch is unwanted for the time being, at least.

“I said fuck me,” Edward demands again.

And with that, Oswald takes hold of himself and pushes the tip of his rigid uncut rod inside his best friend, easing himself in slowly. Edward didn't allow much time to relax his ring of nerves and he's still very tight. “Oh…. my…..” Oswald’s body tense when he senses Edward clench around him never imagined such a feeling of compression. He kisses Edward’s split lips as he slowly starts to thrust.

The Riddler melds into Oswald's kiss, some of his aggression withering away the longer their lips touch. “Ah…. Ah….”, he moans with Oswald's smooth charge. He's wanted to feel this man against him, inside him, even long before Oswald's selfish act of possession. He knew they'd get here. Someday. Somehow. He just didn't know that their path to intimacy would begin with a death. “Oh, Os….” Edward ghosts his hand across the bruises on the Penguin's neck. Thinking of the absolute power that rushed over him the instant Oswald took his last breath and the hollowness that immediately followed. He wanted to kill Oswald, he had to make him pay for what he did, but Edward couldn't live without him. There was a moment when he was resuscitating his friend when he thought Oswald wouldn't wake and complete nothingness washed over him. He never wants to experience that sensation again.

“Even like this—” Oswald lunges within Edward once, then twice, slowly picking up a faster rhythm, stretching out Edward's opening with his thick cock— “you're still the most beautiful man,” he praises him. The cut on his lips, the drying blood, the disheveled hair, and bruises, still doesn’t take anything away from what Oswald feels for Edward.

Edward flashes a braided smirk before changing their positions again, cock still inside. He straddles, perched, on top of Oswald and vigorously rides him, driving his shaft deep within himself with every pounce. “Ah… Oh… Oswald—” his flopping thickness pounds against the Penguin's stomach— “you feel so good…. Mmm…. This is just -- just what I n-need.” He sinks his nails into Oswald's chest. “Touch me, Os—” grinds his ass into the other man’s pelvis— “I wanna cum hard.”

Oswald grazes his unbandaged hand over Edward’s thigh, gently squeezing his powerful muscle before taking the Riddler's manhood in his warm palm. He circles his thumb around the head, spreading the creamy natural lubrication, and strokes the shaft from base to redden end, feeling the man above him quiver with a rapture of delight.

“Ah!” Edward arches back, anchoring his hands on Oswald's thighs, never stopping the rotations of his hips.

The Penguin's breathing becomes hollow and quickens as he senses his release drawing nearer. He keeps his eyes fixed on the man above him, drinking in the moment. _Dammit, Edward is gorgeous._ Oswald tugs and lightly squeezes Nygma's cock with a twist in his wrist, mirroring the motions he's done to himself upon countless lonely nights thinking of being the one in Edward's bed. Now that moment is here, except they aren’t in a bed but on the hard concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse covered in blood, cuts, and bruises. Yet, Oswald still thinks this instant is extraordinary. “Oh -- oh god!”, he moans breathless, heavy balls trembling between his thighs, drowning in a sea of ecstasy.

The pleasurable sensations inside Edward and around his cock surges his flushed body with heat. “I'm almost there.” He drills Oswald’s slick unyielding rod deeper inside, filling himself to the max, hitting his prostate endlessly. “Uh… I'm g-gonna cum,” he stutters thickly, falling forward into the Penguin and catches his hands flat on his chest. Edward fucks Oswald hard with the last burst of energy charging through him, hoping that the bird’s hand pumping at his shaft can keep up with his violent pace. Oswald doesn't disappoint. “Fuck!” His body stiffens trying to hold out just a little longer, but the pressure coiling inside is much stronger than his willpower. Edward's throbbing blood stained ass clamps down around Oswald, as he closes his eyes tightly, giving in to the erotic flood. His cock twitches and his toes curl in his leather shoes, as he showers Oswald's hand and stomach with the lush of his release. “Ugh!”, he grunts, the tip of his finger turning white as he pushes them into Oswald's flesh, overwhelmed by the waves of his orgasm.

The Penguin milks Edward's cock, bathing himself in warm sticky cum, as he spills his own climax in his friend’s ass. “Fuck, Ed!” He bites on his bottom lip, blood trickle down his cheek while he rides out the tremors.

Edward collapses on top of Oswald and lands in the curve of the other man's damp neck, gaping hole gushing with a fresh load, polishing Oswald's fluttering thickness. “I still hate you,” he said after a moment of silence and heavy breathing fell between them.

Oswald feels a sharp pain of anguish in his chest when he heard Edward’s words. He thought after their time together that Edward might feel differently, but he fully understands. Though Edward worked out his physical aggression, he still needs time to truly understand his emotions and put his mind in a more nonviolent place. “I know you do, Ed,” his wispy, breathy, voice spoke softly.

“But I think I want to be with you, Oswald—” he sluggishly sits up when he gains the strength to move again, body in unbelievable pain, but this is what he wanted— “and I hope we could work something out.”

“I know we can,” Oswald says, placing his hands on Edward's face to bring him in for a kiss, but the Riddler stops him just as their lips are about to meet.

They stay locked in a gaze, hearts pounding, hot blood flowing rapidly through their veins, heated breath fanning the skin of the other. Breathing in the musk of sex, sweat and drying blood. They both want this kiss, they need it, but Edward can't allow it. It would only strengthen the yearning to be back in Oswald’s arms.

“It won't be happening today,” Edward whispers, eyes misty as he rises to his feet, Oswald's dripping cock slips out. He hastily steps into his pants and leaves the Penguin alone— never peeking back— in their pool of sex on the warehouse floor.


End file.
